


richie tozier's all dead rock show

by ashleygail



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blowjobs, CHARACTER DEATHS!!, Hurt and comfort, M/M, Mentions of Car Accidents, Mentions of Drowning, Mentions of Drunk Driving, Pennywise Is His Own Trigger Warning, but like ... mentions of potential things that didn't happen in this timeline, mentions of suicide and suicide attempts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-21 23:27:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17651711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleygail/pseuds/ashleygail
Summary: As Richie dragged his body up onto the bank, dripping wet and nauseous, he couldn’t have told you how long he’d been in that water. He also couldn’t have told you whether they driven his car off that cliff on purpose or not.But you could tell you every single detail from his childhood, right down to what he wore on the first day of kindergarten.[or: after a near-death experience, Richie Tozier suddenly finds himself with a sparkling, unaffected memory of Derry, the things that happened there and people he once loved.]





	richie tozier's all dead rock show

Richie Tozier drummed his hands against the steering wheel, the California streets whizzing past him in an utter blur. He couldn’t tell even himself how much he’d had to drink, seven or eight mixed drinks at the club- not even considering that he’d shown up already slurring from his pregaming. A couple of hits of a bong before getting in his car, Richie knew he was fucked. He knew there was no possibly way he was okay to drive, but none of his so-called friends had tried to stop him, and Richie was huge fan of seeing just how much he could get away with.

Richie hadn’t always been like this… he didn’t think. When he had first moved out to Cali, determined to make it big, he was serious about this life. His career. He was never going to let the party life and groupies steer him away from being anything other than successful. He had spent his own childhood watching his mother fight with alcoholism- and amazing woman, the kindest Richie knew, but with that life long struggle- but Richie didn’t remember as much as he felt like he should. The longer he remained in California, the deeper he got into the music scene and the more popular his music got- the easier it got for Richie to let go of his idea that he should make it through mostly sober.

It seemed, though, that idea of avoiding groupies stuck to him in even his most intoxicated of states. Richie sometimes wondered to himself if his dick even worked, but it mattered very little. It was good for his image, to never sleep with anybody, it helped sell his ridiculous publicity stunt relationship with Sandy Thompson. He barely even knew the girl, only ever in her presence in the most public of situations. He didn’t even know her middle name. His manager and publicity teams always raved at Richie’s self-control, not sleeping with any girls while on the road… being dedicated to the charade. Richie wished it could have been that simple. In truth, he just never been able to shake some lingering feeling of loyalty that he couldn’t find a source to.

Richie’s eyes were blurry- maybe from tears, maybe from drinking, maybe his contacts had fallen out- and he rubbed angrily at them. When the blur cleared slightly, he realized with a delayed start that he was a lot closer to the Filmore Cliff than he’d realized. He clutched at the steering wheel, readying himself to swerve away from the edge.

And then… he didn’t.

_“I’m going to miss you,” Eddie Kaspbrak said, holding the small purple Beanie Baby in his hands and looking around Richie’s now-empty bedroom. “You’ll write, right? Call me?”_

_“Yeah, Eds, course. You know I will.” Richie promised. It was an empty promise, and they both knew it. Aside from Mike Hanlon out on his family’s farm, Eddie and Richie were the last two Losers in Derry- and every time it had been the same. Tearful goodbyes, promises to keep in touch and then slowly stopping. Letters get further apart, calls get distant. Eventually the person on the other end of the line sounded to confused to why they were even making the call in the first place. That was usually about when Richie stopped answering the phones, but Eddie would ride it out until the calls stopped completely. Then he’d cry over loosing another friend, while Richie held him close and swore he’d_ never _do that to him._

_That had been the intention, when they’d been going to school together. When their lives were going to be side by side, forever. Before NYU and UCLA, before they had to choose between school and love. Before they both chose school, even knowing what it would mean. They had had their dream schools before they’d fallen in love, and Richie supposed to it would the hardest decision either of them would ever make. School or love. School or love. School or love._

_Eddie moved over to Richie and moved to sit in his lap, legs on either side of Richie’s hips. He wrapped on arm around Richie’s shoulders and leaned their foreheads together. “We’re making the right decision right? Because sometimes it feels like it but other times…”_

_Richie rubbed circles into Eddie’s hips. “I know.” He said, letting himself be soft, be open. In ways he knew he would never be able to be with anybody who wasn’t Eddie Kaspbrak. “I get that, too, but we are. You know? If we didn’t we’d just end up resenting each other for holding us back. If we’re meant to be together, you know we will be.”_

_Eddie opened his mouth, but Wentworth’s voice started carrying up the stairs before he could say another word. “Richard! You need to get moving if you want to make it there by Monday! Let’s go son!”_

_Richie squeezed the small plush toy in Eddie’s hand. “You keep Marty, yeah?” He said, fighting the need to tear up. “When we meet again- and we will- you can give him back to me.”_

As Richie dragged his body up onto the bank, dripping wet and nauseous, he couldn’t have told you how long he had been in that water. He also couldn’t have told you whether or not he’d driven his car off that cliff on purpose. But he could tell you every single detail from his childhood, right down to what he wore on the first day of kindergarten.

Richie’s trembling elbows finally gave out, Richie dropping onto his stomach with a loud groan. He was pretty sure his entire body hurt- which, of course, he supposed was reasonable for having just been knocked off a cliff into the ocean. In a car. While incredibly wasted. If he was hurting now, he couldn’t imagine how he’d be feeling when he finally sobered up. He didn’t feel particularly drunk at the moment, but he chalked it up to adrenaline and rolled himself over onto his back.

Eddie Kaspbrak’s face was still burned into his brain when he closed his eyes. The tearful look on Eddie’s face as he’d watched Richie get into his old pickup to leave Derry forever, the way he’d laughed so nervously the first time he’d told Richie he loved him, the way he’d screamed over his broken arm in that old house on Neibolt street-

Richie’s stomach churned as flashes of screaming children and chilling laughter rattled inside his head. He hadn’t thought of … that…. in many years. Those memories might as well had disappeared from mind the second he’d crossed the city lines. It was a good thing his brain had stolen those memories from him, he knew it had been. Even if the repression seemed to have stolen all of Derry from him- and Richie sort of wanted to curl up into the fetal position on this beach having to know that he’d forgotten Eddie- but not being able to remember IT was likely the only Richie had been anything close to a functioning adult this whole time.

If he could call himself that, Richie supposed as he rolled onto his back to look up at the starry night. Most times in Cali you couldn’t see the stars, all the light pollution making sure of that, but tonight they were as visible at they’d ever been growing up in Maine. He wondered if any of the other Losers ever looked up at the night star and remembered Derry. He was supposed  not, if they’d all forgotten like he had.

Had Eddie forgotten him as well? Richie wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. If Eddie had forgotten him, then at least he hadn’t spent the last several years missing him, but on that same hand- then Eddie hadn’t missed him. Richie looked back on his own life, and left that maybe even if he hadn’t remembered Eddie- he’d always missed him. Could the same be said for Eddie? Richie wasn’t sure he could much longer without knowing.

Pushing himself to his feet, Richie stumbled away from the water. His head was pounding inside his head and he wondered through the streets. His car was a lost cause, he wasn’t going fucking swimming looking for it. Even if he found it, Richie was pretty sure that being submerged in the ocean wasn’t exactly _good_ for a car. He probably didn’t even want to find his poor baby.

Walking slowly down the empty California streets, Richie tried to ignore the growing feeling of dread in his gut. He was ready to blame it completely on that silly scratch in his brains’ inner wall making him remember all his fun childhood traumas but something just felt wrong. It was a vague feeling Richie wouldn’t be able to describe, especially with the knowledge that his own brain couldn’t explain it to him.

He made his way onto a street that finally seemed to have buildings and walked up towards the first trash looking motel he could find. “Do you have any rooms?” Richie asked, voice seeming even more ripped and raw than he’d thought it would be. The teenage girl at the front looked up at him and frowned.

“Yeah, I…” She said, cheeks starting to go pink. “You know, you look a lot like-“

“The lead singer from that band _Trashmouth,”_ Richie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I get that a lot. Can I check in please?”

The girl nodded, cheeks now a burning red. “It’s a terrible what happened to him, isn’t it?”

“Fame does that to people,” Richie said, fighting the urge to defend himself. He knew that the best way to make it through time in public was to pretend he wasn’t who he was,  it had always been his method of survival. So he gave the girl the fake information he always used when checking into any hotel that wasn’t directly related to his tour and got the key to the room. It wasn’t the nicest room, but Richie hadn’t expected it to be. It wasn’t his first time checking into some whole in the wall motel, and he doubted it would be his last. Any place that would look at him, completely dripping wet and visibly shaken up, and not ask him a single question was the kind of Richie was happy to give his money to.

Richie pulled his wet clothes from his body, realizing only then that he had no option to change clothes. Feeling thankful that this motel at least at decently heated rooms, Richie stripped down into nothing and hung up his clothes on the chair. His jeans dipped down heavily, and Richie dug into his pockets. Pulling out his smart phone, Richie frowned. How in the fuck did it not get washed away while Richie was somehow not drowning?

Curiosity in his chest, Richie held the down the power button and watched his iPhone light up with it’s usual white screen. Glow and show his phone background, which had always just been a default as Richie often changed phones two or three times a year, and he shook his head. “Okay…” Richie said out loud, dropping down onto his bed and unlocking his phone. Ignoring the hundreds of texts, calls and assorted notifications, Richie opened his Facebook app and typed a new into the search bar.

 _Eddie Kaspbrak._ There was a surprisingly low amount of results for the name, and the second person in the list was undeniable the man that Richie had fallen in love with. Thirteen years older, clothes a little blander, and glasses on his face but that was him. That was his Eds. Clicking on the link, Richie’s phone opened wide with the life of Eddie Kaspbrak. It would seem he never learned to update his privacy settings, but Richie scrolled he thought that was prepares a conscious decision. Eddie was rather large business man through North America, the idea men behind the transportation service known as Rydes. Richie had used it hundreds of times when on tour in America, but he’d never had any idea that Eddie had been behind it… Which, of course he hadn’t. Because he hadn’t known who Eddie was while he was on tour.

Richie took note that the main headquarters of Rydes was in New York and so was Eddie. Heart hammering in his chest, Richie was coming to an conclusion before his brain had given it any thought at all. It wasn’t weird to just show up the love of your life who didn’t remember you’s place of work, right?

Richie chuckled to himself, eye fluttering shut and deciding to pretend to give it more thought when he work up in the morning… knowing that he wouldn’t. As Richie fell asleep, he dreamt. And oh… he dreamt.

_Richie was sitting in his childhood bedroom, brain feeling beautifully light, muscles in his arms and legs twitching slightly. He wondered if he still had those marshmallow cookies in the kitchen that his mom always bought and hid from his dad. Not that it mattered in that moment- Beverly Marsh was a warm weight beside him on the bed and he couldn’t be bothered to stand up._

_“You’re such a pussy, Tozier,” Beverly laughed as she blew a mouthful of white smoke from her mouth. She handed the pipe to Richie and glowered at him. “Or just an idiot. If you don’t think Eddie Kaspbrak is absolutely in love with you, then I think there may be no help for you at all.”_

_Richie held the smoke in his lungs until he succeeded in exhaling the ghosted smoke. He raised one brow at his best friend. “Oh, are you seriously one to talk, Marsh? Ben Hanscom ring a bell?”_

_Beverly smiled sadly. “It’s not the same.” She said. There was long moment of silence between them as Beverly took the pipe back. She inhaled deeply. “Ben missed his weekly phone call this week.. again. That’s the second week in a row.”_

_Richie closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Bev.”_

_“It is what it is.”_

_Richie was pretty sure he was going to answer her but it seemed suddenly as though the world was dissolving around him, and he wasn’t in his childhood bedroom anymore. It was standing at the edge of the Quarry, with Eddie staring at him with big, wide eyes._

_“Please say something,” Eddie said, eyes tearing up and oh shit- Richie had missed something pretty damn important. Richie wasn’t sure what Eddie was waiting for him to say, but he would have said anything to make sure Eddie never looked at him like that ever again._

_“Tell me what you want me to say,” Richie pleaded, licking his lips. He only realized then that Eddie’s hand was small and soft in his own, and Richie’s heart began to race. “Eds…”_

_But Eddie was slipping away, Richie could feel it, he could see it. “No, wait, EDS!” He cried, trying to grab at Eddie but Eddie was gone. Richie was moving, he was in a car. Before Richie could blink, the car was barrelling over the edge of the Quarry. Richie could do nothing but scream on the way down, sober this time, scared this time. The water surrounding him, and maybe Richie was crying but couldn’t tell through all the rest of the wet. Then… a voice he didn’t know. An old voice, the voice of something that had seen too many things. That had seen everything._

_“It’s not your time, Richie. Not yet.”_

Richie startled out of the motel bed, hitting the ground hard, breathing laboured. He rubbed his hands over his face and breathed for a moment, before seeming to remember that he laying on a dirty motel room floor completely naked. Standing, Richie moved over to where his clothes were hanging and smiled slightly when he saw that they had managed to dry overnight. Slipping the clothes back on, Richie grabbed his apparently super-powered iPhone and walked out of the room. Next stop New York City.

Richie got weird looks as he moved through the California streets and the airport, even on board the plane as he sat in coach, but not one person openly recognized him. It was an odd experience, Richie knew, because he hadn’t tried to disguise himself in any way. Not like he normally would- mostly because he had no method of doing so. He was more than happy to put his phone on airplane mode, and ignore whatever was going to happen when his managers and band members reach out to him eventually. It wasn’t the first time Richie had tried to see how long he could disappear before people starting looking for him. His record was three days before annoyed texts got worried. He had time.

When Richie landed in New York, he debated going and buying some clothes that he hadn’t swam through the Pacific Ocean in. He turned that idea down pretty quick, knowing that going into any store or mall would just be an unnecessary risk. He was doing oddly well at not being recognized, but there was no reason to play with fire. He sure as hell wasn’t supposed to be in New York right now, and being spotted was sure as hell to get him into trouble.

He got the headquarters of Rydes and was pleasantly surprised to see there didn’t seem to be particularly strong security around the door, and the guards that were there simply nodding at Richie as though he belonged there, walking into the great, fancy building in his water damaged clothes. He walked into what he assumed was the main offices area, and only realized then that he had absolutely no game plan. He didn’t think he could exactly walk into his office, and demand to see the CEO and state “hey I’m his old boyfriend from the childhood hometown he doesn’t remember, trust me- he’ll want to see me.”

Shrugging, and figuring if they kicked him he could just play the celebrity client card, Richie marched into the office and smiled at the overweight woman sitting at the reception desk. “Hey, beautiful,” he cooed, smiling at her. Something about this woman made Richie’s insides uncomfortably, and he decided to let his gut rest with that this woman reminded him of certain Sonia Kaspbrak and nothing else. “I need a favour. Is there anyway you could get me in the see the man?”

The girl gave a disapproving cluck. “Mr Kaspbrak is a very busy man. If you don’t an appointment-“

“Myra,” that sweet, sweet familiar voice came over Richie’s shoulder and made his stomach erupt in butterflies.  “Do stop letting our clients that I’m busy when we both know I’m just sitting in my office playing poker on my phone. Come on in, sir.”

Richie turned slowly, feeling like the whole world was moving in the slowest of motions. Eddie’s hair was parted in a soft swoop and he was wearing a press grey suit with a vest and light blue dress shirt, sleeves rolled up his elbows. Richie wished he had gone and changed out these damn ocean clothes now, but if the way Eddie’s eyes trailed down his body and his lips twisted up into half a smirk, Richie didn’t look half as bad as he felt he did.

“Close the door behind you,” Eddie added as he turned back to walk into his office. Richie glanced over his shoulder at the receptionist, who was staring up at Richie as though she’d watched him run over her pet cat just to back up and run it over again. Richie stuck his tongue out at her and practically skipping into Eddie’s office and closing the door.

“What can I do for you?” Eddie sat down on the edge of his desk and twisted the golden watch on his wrist. His eyes still trailed over Richie’s body, making him not even want to sit down and block any of the view.

“I’m looking for a job.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before Richie even had a chance to think of an answer and he blinked in surprise at his own words. Eddie eyeballed him, still smirking slightly.

“Can you drive?” Eddie asked, looking Richie up and down slowly. “No often, but you got trust fund baby written all over you.”

Richie chuckled, thinking of his parents. “You’re close, but still just a little bit off. Won’t pretend I don’t have money, but they didn’t come from Mommy and Daddy.”

“So if you have money, why are you looking for a job here?” Eddie asked.

Richie bit on his bottom lip. _Because of you,_ he wanted to say but knew he couldn’t. Eddie clearly had no recollection of who he was, he couldn’t throw that all down into his lap. If he told Eddie he only came here to see him, Richie supposed it would only be logic to have arrested. And wouldn’t _that_ just be the best publicity? He gave the only answer he could: “I’ve been reflecting on my life a little bit lately, remembering some things. Think I might want to do something a little different with my life now.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, alright. This isn’t exactly protocol, but I’m doing anything the rest of the afternoon- why don’t you show me what you got? You drive, right?”

Images flash; blurry California streets, cliff edges, fucking cold water. Richie forced a smile. “Yeah, man. I definitely drive.”

Eddie smiled. “Good. Let’s go….?”

“Uh, Richie,” he said. For a moment, he considered giving a fake name. Keep the identity a secret, doing what was safe, what was smart. But he couldn’t possibly lie about his name to Eddie. “Richie Tozier, at your service.”

An odd look settled on Eddie’s face then, a slight frown and crinkle between his brow. For a moment, Richie thought maybe Eddie had remembered. His heart longed for Eddie to ask him to repeat his name, for a simple _do I know you?_ but then Eddie was shaking his head and smiling again. “Well, Richie Tozier, let’s get you behind the wheel and see what you can do.”

Richie checked his seat belt no less then four times before even starting up the car, noticing how Eddie was watching him carefully. Richie kicked the car into start, gripping the steering wheel tightly, and focusing on control his breathing. He presses his foot against the gas pedal, shooting the car forward slightly, and Richie let out a loud squeak and braked hard.

“Okay!” Eddie said, turning the key and the car slowing off. “Have you ever driven before in your entire life?”

“I have,” Richie said slowly, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to start hyperventilating in the driver seat of one of Eddie’s cars. “I drive all the time, I just… may have had a minor, life threatening car accident like yesterday so this is a little nerve wracking.”

Eddie stared at him, gaped mouth, for a long moment before shaking his head. “You had a car accident _yesterday?_ What the hell, Richie?”

The distressed tone of voice was so familiar it sent a child down Richie’s spine. The words chilling him deep to the core, and he turned slowly to look at Eddie. Eddie was staring at him with mild concern, but it was disconnected. Concern and worry for a stranger. Richie felt as though his heart was shrivelling in his chest.

“Why did you want a driving job with my company then?” Eddie asked, shaking his head. “I’m… I don’t understand.”

Richie exhaled hard, heart still racing as he finally took his hand off the steering wheel. “I’m pretty sure I’m loosing most of the oxygen to my brain right now, or I wouldn’t be telling you all this but… I said that because I wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. His fingers twitched towards his seatbelt and Richie’s stomach plummeted. Well, that’ll do it. Eddie was going to turn and run out of the car and Richie would never see him again. Or Eddie was going to call the police, and Richie would be arrested and his career would bust because he’s some creepy stalker weirdo and his life would utterly over and he’d never get Eddie back and-

“I’m not going to pretend that’s not creepy,” Eddie started speaking again, eyes looking at Richie as though he could see right through him. “But you aren’t setting off any alarms in my head even though you should be-“

“Is it because I’m,” Richie pressed his hand to chest, attempting not to wheeze. “Because I’m smoking hot?”

Eddie grinned. “Probably. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten laid, truthfully, and if you promise not to kill me, I’ll let you come back to my place. But I’m driving.”

Richie was undoing his and ducking out the car before Eddie’s sentence was even fully completed. He ran around to other side and opened the door. Laughing, Eddie ducked out and they switched places. The ride back to Eddie’s house was quiet, but Richie was surprised that it wasn’t awkward. There was a thick tension in the air, one that he supposed felt like sexual tension to Eddie but was something deeper to Richie. Maybe it was deeper to Eddie, too, since Richie had to admit that he couldn’t read the man like he had once been able to read the boy. The Eddie he knew wouldn’t have ditched the afternoon off work to have sex with some random dude that admitted to lying just to talk to him. As loath as Richie was to think of himself as some random dude.

They got back to Eddie’s and moved inside, Richie’s entire body vibrating as he moved inside. It did, oddly enough, look like exactly the kind of place that Richie would have imagined Eddie living in. Neat, tidy with just a few small personal items. There were no pictures on the wall but his eyes fell onto a small, purple plushy sitting on a book shelf. Richie smiled tearfully. His mind started running wild

_“I got you something,” Eddie said as he let himself into Richie’s room. He had his hands placed behind his back and he was smiling at his boyfriend shyly. “And you’re probably going to think it’s like, stupid, but if you do don’t tell me. Just pretend to love it.”_

_Richie lowered his copy of_ 1984 _and looked at Eddie. “Eds, baby, you know I’d love anything you ever gave me- especially if that sweet, sweet a-“_

_“Beep, beep Richie!” Eddie cried, turning red but still smiling. He came fully into the room and crawled up on the bed beside him. He took his hands out from behind his back and placed the small toy in Richie’s awaiting lap. Richie gave it a small, confused smile and picked it up to hold close to his face. “I know it’s childish or like whatever… But I saw it and thought of you, and like it’s purple, right? Purple is a bisexual colour. The colour of bisexuals. And if you hate it then like whatever…”_

_“Beep, Beep, Eds,” Richie said teasingly, cupping the side of Eddie’s head and kissing him softly. Eddie made a happy noise again Richie’s lips, and Richie could feel him smiling. “I love him. I’m going to call him Marty.”_

_Eddie gave a confused smile. “Why Marty?”_

_“_ Back to the Future _,” Richie said as though it was obvious. “Had my first kiss to that movie.”_

_Eddie laughed and swatted at Richie’s chest._

Richie reached out and pulled something close to his chest and Eddie let out a slightly panicked shout of “Don’t touch that!” before Richie turned around, holding out the _Back to the Future_ DVD set that had been sitting behind the old plushie. Eddie made an embarrassed noise. “Sorry… sorry, I thought you were going to touch the- just sorry. You like _Back to the Future?”_

“Had my first kiss to this movie,” Richie chuckled, waggling his brows at Eddie.

Eddie grinned bashfully, though there was a notable confused in his eyes. “So did I, actually. I don’t really remember it- except that this movie was playing.”

Richie nodded slowly, it was more than he’d have expected Eddie have remembered about him. That little plushie, sitting out in front of their movie. Even if Eddie didn’t remember, it didn’t seem like all of him had forgotten either. Richie looked at Eddie as he took off his grey vest, leaving himself in just his suit pants and blue button down and Richie choked on love. He realized then- Eddie really _didn’t_ remember him, didn’t know him at all. He just- effectively- a quick fuck and somebody Eddie would never want to see again. It hit Richie then that this- _this-_ was what would destroy him. There was no coming back from it if it happened.

“You know, Eddie, I don’t think-“ Richie started, not pausing to consider that Eddie had never told him his name. He couldn’t give the rest of his thoughts, because Eddie had stepped forward and was kissing him. Richie’s stomach swooped and his world seemed to re-alien on its path.

Eddie, it seemed, didn’t feel the same. He pulled back, eyes fluttering open and staring up at Richie. His eyes danced around Richie’s face and his mouth dropped open. “I…. I _know_ you.”

Richie cleared his throat, eyes already starting to tear up. “Hiya, Eds.”

Eddie jerked away from Richie has though he’d been electrocuted. He cupped his hands over his mouth and made a loud breath into them, something that could have been half a scream. His eyes were trained on the floor, seemingly seeing everything about the sights around him. “Oh my God…” He said slowly, finally looking back up at Richie. He started shaking his head, breathing so heavily that Richie reached for the inhaler he hadn’t carried with him in nearly fifteen years. “ _Richie…_ I… Fuck.”

Eddie stood up straight, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Richie longed to go to him, his own heart racing a mile a minute, but he knew first hand what Eddie was experiencing right now. What he was remembering. How he was feeling. Richie felt as though if somebody had touched him while he’d been going through it, he would have broken beyond repair.

“I…” Eddie cleared this throat. “You need to leave.”

Richie’s heart shattered then, truly and permanently. He was bursting into tears before the chance to fully process what Eddie had just demanded of him. Eddie whipped around at the sound of Richie’s messy tears, his face contorting into a mixture of pain and horror. He took a few steps towards him, reaching a hand out before clenching his fist and dropping it back to his side. “I’m sorry…” Eddie whispered, tensing his shoulders in an attempt to stop himself from trembling. “I… Richie… I need to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do now. I’m pretty sure you just broke my brain.”

Richie wiped frantically at his face but he couldn’t keep up with the way the tears were falling now. Eddie’s heart clenched, he’d never seen Richie cry like that in all the years he’d known him. Eddie felt what little sanity and resolve he still had rapidly fading, but person he break down and take Richie into his arms, Richie letting out a gut-wrenching sob and fleeing from Eddie’s apartment.

Eddie sunk into his couch cushions and pressed his face into his hands. He had eighteen years running through his head, eighteen years of hell… but also eighteen years of Richie. Of love, and Eddie licked his lips as his brain asked the question that he should’ve asked _Richie._ What brought him here, now, when Eddie’s brain had pushed him away thirteen years old when his car pulled over the Maine state line.

Eddie made a frantic jump for his cell phone and was opening up his Google browser before he had fully given it the thought it deserved. Shaking hands typed _Richie Tozier_ into the search bar and the first news article that appeared had Eddie’s stomach churning

**LEAD SINGER OF GARAGE BAND TRASHMOUTH FOUND DEAD IN CALIFORNIA. 01/21/17.**

Eddie gagged, and lowered his phone away from his face. 01/21/17… January 21st.. 2017. Brain swirling in his skull, Eddie clicked on the article with shaking fingers.

**The search for garage rock band _Trashmouth’s_ lead singer, Richard Tozier (25) of came to a tragic end this morning in a small private Californian beach when Tozier’s body was spotted having washed up on the bank a little after dawn this morning.  Tozier had been last seen leaving an after party Thursday night, getting into his car and heading home a little after 3AM. Friends and family had grown concerned after two days of silence from Tozier. **

**“Richie was a very private person,” long-time girlfriend Sandy Thompson (22) told our sources tearfully this morning. “It wasn’t exactly odd to go a few days without hearing from him, especially after touring, but I just knew something was wrong.”**

**Autopsy still pending, but police have issued a statement that the musician’s death seemed to be nothing outside a tragic motor-vehicle accident, and they do not suspect foul play.**

Hands still shaking, Eddie scrolled through hundreds of new articles all giving the same story. Tragic accident, too much alcohol and dark roads. The whole music community mourning the loss of such a talent. Eddie dropped his phone onto the table and fought the urge to chuck it across the room. January 2017… at 24 years old. Richie had _died two years ago._ Eddie touched his lips, still slightly tingling from kissing Richie just moments ago. What was it Richie had said in the car earlier that day, before Eddie had remembered who he was? Something about having been in a car accident the day before? Was that what Richie truly believed? He had died two years ago, but woken up like no time had passed at all?

Eddie thought then of a diseased lepers, and yellow glowing eyes and suspected that nothing was out of the question for his life. Something suddenly sunk deep into Eddie’s gut- Richie Tozier had died two years ago, and Eddie hadn’t known. The only person Eddie Kaspbrak had truly loved had _died_ and Eddie hadn’t given it a second thought. Richie had been a _celebrity,_ it would have been all over the news, and it still hadn’t gotten to him. He couldn’t even remember hearing the name _Richie Tozier_ and causing him to stall. The love of his life had died, and Eddie Kaspbrak had gone on completely unaffected.

He wouldn’t let that happen again. Eddie grabbed his coat of the hanger and ran from his apartment, barely giving him to the time to put on shoes. He knew logically, that there was no reason he’d be able to find Richie. New York was more than a large city, and Richie had ran out of his place like a bat out of hell, but with his foggy brain Eddie just let his feet guide him. He stopped outside some slimy looking downtown bar and exhaled hard. Yanking the door open, his eyes searching through the crowd until they landed a curl head sitting at the bar.

Ducking around the few people standing around, Eddie moved to Richie and clasped a hand on his shoulder. Richie startled, whipping around and looking at Eddie with huge eyes. The whites were now a deep, dark, red and the rest of his face was sickly pale. Eddie looked all over his face and fought back the urge to cup Richie’s face and kiss him senseless. _You love him,_ Eddie thought to himself, almost surprised at how quickly his soul seemed to recognize that love between them had never truly been lost. _You love him, and he died once, and you can never loose him again._

But Eddie didn’t tell Richie any of those things- not here in this dingy bar- and there were so many other things Eddie had to tell him, too. So he simply settled with a simple: “Come with me.”

Richie’s face may have shown hesitation, but his quick standing and shuffling behind Eddie didn’t. They made their second trip to Eddie’s apartment in silence, Eddie spending the whole time thinking about how if this had been Derry, he’d been holding Richie’s hand. They move into Eddie’s apartment, and Eddie chooses to skip right over the living room and bring Richie into his room. He gestures for Richie to sit on the bed, the man looking at him mostly mistrusting as he did so.

“I’m going to show you something,” Eddie said slowly, coming to sit beside Richie with his cell phone out. “And I really don’t want you to freak out. You’re probably going to freak out, but just know I’d prefer if you did not do that.”

Richie raised his eyebrows, gaze glancing between Eddie and his phone. Eddie handed him the phone, that same first article about Richie’s accident reopened, and avoided looking at Richie while he read it. He only turned back when he heard Richie clearing his throat.

“Well, that…” Richie said awkwardly, swaying slightly where he was sitting. “Okay.” Richie then lunged forward, grabbed the small wastepaper basket beside Eddie’s bed, and promptly threw up into it. Eddie winced in disgust, but moved forward to rub reassuringly at Richie’s back.

“You’re okay,” Eddie said softly, the words of comfort coming out without any need to think. “It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.”

Richie pulled his face away from the garbage can and put it back onto the ground with a groan of disgust. “Sorry, I know you hate vomit.” Richie said sheepishly, forcing a grin onto to face despite looking moments away from bursting into tears.

“I’m sure you hate finding out you’ve been dead for two years more than I hate people throwing up in my garbage,” Eddie said, mouth moving beyond any reasonable train of thought. “It might be about equal to how much I would’ve hated it if you’d thrown up on the floor.”

Richie’s mouth dropped open and Eddie quickly clasped a hand over his mouth, staring at Richie with wide eyes. Richie shakes his head, smiling slightly, but then glances back down at the phone and frowned once more. “What does this mean, Eddie? I mean… what the fuck…”

“You think I know what it means?” Eddie squeaked, blood pressure quickly rising. “I didn’t even remember you until like an hour ago! You’re the one who came back from the dead, man!”  Richie made a small gagging noise and grabbed the garbage again. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut as the noises hit his ears. “Ah, shit. I’m sorry.”

Richie waved him off, already chuckling. “I’m not sure how I can be throwing up so much, if I haven’t eaten anything in two years.”

Eddie cringed, but found himself looking closely at Richie now. He didn’t… look dead. His face was pale- but Richie had always been pale, and he’d just been crying. He was as jittery and jumpy as Eddie remembered him having been. “How…” Eddie cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, how dead _are_ you exactly?”

Richie shook his head. “Dude, I didn’t even know I was dead until like, three minutes ago.” Richie laughed bitterly.

“Do you sleep?” Eddie asked, glancing all over Richie’s face with an almost odd look of amusement. “Are you like… a zombie?”

“No?” Richie asked, shaking his head but looking close to laughing. “I don’t think so? I don’t want to eat you… Well, yeah, I do, but not _like that.”_

Eddie made a small noise of disgust that got hidden in his laugh as he whacked Richie in the shoulder. “Beep Beep Richard!” The two of them giggled like the high school students they remembered being then Eddie slowly calmed himself. He looked down at Richie’s chest. “Does your heart beat?”

“Uhh..” Richie pressed a hand over his chest. “My heart has been going crazy all day with fucking anxiety and shit so… yeah I think so? Probably? But I mean… how would I know?”

Eddie titled his head and stared at Richie like he was under a microscope then grinned. He leaned over and rummaged in his bedside table. He pulled out a pair of sewing scissors and sliced them quickly across Richie’s expose bicep.

“OW WHAT THE FUCK, EDS?” Richie shouted, quickly clasping his hand over the wound. Eddie rolled his eyes and yanked Richie’s hand away. They both looked at the spot, eyebrows raising in unison as they looked at the bloodless scratch. Richie frowned. “Well… it fucking hurt, okay?”

“Probably because you saw me do it,” Eddie said simply. “Psychosomatic. But it looks like your heart isn’t beating. Fucking weird.”

“Oh, and there was no other way you could have figured that out, Doctor K?” Richie asked mockingly. “Let check for me a  pulse or something? No, let’s just go straight for assault with a weapon.”

Eddie made a small _hmm_ noise and Richie rolled his eyes. “So you do sleep then?”

“I slept last night,” Richie said with a shrug. “Had some really weird dreams but yeah. I can sleep.”

“Do you want to sleep then?” Eddie asked, fighting back his yawn. “I don’t know about you, but this is has been a pretty emotionally exhausting and confusing day, yeah?”

“Yeah. Understatement,” Richie agreed.  They looked at each other for a moment, that legendary question of share the bed or sleep on the couch, then both smiled at one another.

“You need pajamas?” Eddie asked, standing to move towards his drawers. “Some of my baggy sweats might fit you and I’ve always kept large shirts for sleeping in anyway.”

“Yeah that would be great,” Richie said. “I don’t actually have any clothes or like belongings at all. I woke up on a beach in California yesterday and just figured that I’d head home eventually and grab stuff but…” A small look of sadness came over Richie’s face, even though he was still smiling. “It’s been two years, I don’t think I have much of a home to go back to.”

 _I’ll be your home, Richie,_ Eddie thought desperately as he took out a pair of grey sweats and a T-shirt to hand to Richie. Richie smiled at him, and there wasn’t any debate of turning away or moving from the room. They changed and settled into bed together, Eddie curled beside Richie and letting his head rest down on Richie’s chest. He was warm, and he shouldn’t have been. Richie had been always been like a small space heater but with no heat beat, no running blood, he should have been a cold as a corpse. But he wasn’t, he was as warm as he’d ever been.

“I really fucking missed you,” Eddie said tearfully. Richie squeezed him tightly. “I didn’t even know it, but I fucking missed you, Rich.”

“I missed you, too, Eds,” Richie said.

_Richie supposed he was dreaming, he realized as he was standing waist deep in the cold Quarry water. He could see his childhood friends all splashing in the water around him, but he didn’t feel like joining them. He ducked under the wet, breath coming just as easily as above, and he walked along the bottom of the world._

_“Richard…” The mystery voice from before wavering over to him. The words were little distorted from the water in Richie’s ears, but really could hear it almost clear enough. “I was wondering when I’d be seeing you. Your little friend Bill comes to visit me always every night. He never remembers me, but you’ll remember. You remember everything now.”_

_Richie turned around and saw a large- much too large- turtle floating near him. Richie crinkled his nose and knelt in front of him. “Who are you?”_

_“It matters not who I am,” the turtle said. Or… Richie assumed the turtle was saying it. The words seemed to be coming from it somehow, though his mouth didn’t move in any fashion of speaking that Richie had ever seen. “It matters only who you are.”_

_Richie frowned. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”_

_“You are very important, Richie. One of the seven. They cannot do it without you. I brought you back, for the fight. They need you and it wasn’t your time.”_

_“You…” Richie’s throat felt like it was caving in, and not from the depth of the water he was sitting in. “If it wasn’t my time, then why did you let it be my time for two years before bringing me back?”_

_“I am only as strong as I can be.”_

_“What the fu….” Richie muttered under his breath. “Well, fucking obviously! Damn! Poetic as shit, but I mean… YEAH! And you brought me back… but I am actually alive?”_

_“You are as alive as you need to be.”_

_Richie blinked and smiled, because if he didn’t smile he would scream. And if he screamed, he would drown._

_“You need to complete the Seven. You must be there for when he returns- and he will return soon enough.”_

_“You know what,” Richie said. “_ Fuck you _turtle dude. I’m not a part of anything!”_

_“You made a promise, Richie.” Richie felt his hand burn, that cut, that damned cut… “You life is not yours to loose. Not so long as IT lives.”_

_Richie screamed._

“RICHIE!” Eddie was seated on Richie’s chest when Richie’s eyes flew open. Sun was sinking in from the behind Eddie’s blinds, but it was showcasing Eddie’s panicked face just enough to settle Richie’s racing heart. Or his … not racing heart. He still wasn’t sure what to call it when he could feel his heart hammering in his chest even as he knew it wasn’t beating anymore.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Richie said, still some what tasting the lake water in his mouth. “I just… I think IT’s back.”

Eddie let out a slow breath and climbed off Richie. “Yeah, I…” He nodded. “I was taking a shower, and my phone went off. It was Mike- you know, Mike Hanlon from Derry. He messaged me on Facebook. You started screaming before I could respond. He says things are starting to act up in Derry.”

“Think things are starting to act up everywhere,” Richie chuckled, patting at his solid chest. He took that moment to appreciate all that was Eddie Kaspbrak. If he’d been a cute ass dude, gorgeous, it was nothing compared to mess of hotness that he’d grown into. The ends of his wet hair was dripping onto his bare shoulders and Richie wanted to lick it up. Maybe now wasn’t the time, but he made a note to do it when he a chance.

“Yeah.” Eddie grabbed his phone from the beside table. He opened up his camera and turned it around. “Smile and say _what the fuck_!”

Eddie sent the picture in response to Mike’s polite text, along with the simple words: _you fucking think so mikey?_

Mike’s response was nearly instantons. _Get here as soon as you can._

When Eddie pulled into Derry, shivering as he got past the welcome sign, Richie jerked awake with a loud gasp. Eddie chuckled. “You know, you sure sleep a lot. For a dead guy.”

Richie stuck his tongue. “Dying takes a lot of out of a guy!!” He chuckled. He was wearing still wearing Eddie’s clothes- the same grey sweat pants that he’d slept in back in New York and a large sweater than had probably belonged to a one night stand of Eddie’s that he couldn’t properly remember just judging by its size. Richie had insisted that they could go clothes shopping for him once they went to Derry and sorted out all the IT bullshit.

“I still think-“ Eddie began but Richie waved him off.

“That we should stop and get me clothes,” Richie said in a higher pitched voice that was obviously supposed to be some poor imitation of Eddie. Eddie shot him a scowl. “Yeah, babe, I heard you the first ten times you’ve said it between here and New York. I’m surprised you’re this good at driving while bitching me out.”

Eddie smiled to himself, ducking his head slightly. It still was amazing him just how easily he and Richie had bounced into their relationship, as though the last thirteen years hadn’t happened at all. There hadn’t been a huge gap in their lives, and they’ve been together this whole time.

 _If you’re even together now,_ Eddie’s brain reminded him unhelpfully. It wasn’t as though they’d really talked about it. They’d kissed the single time, before Eddie had freaked out and demanded Richie to leave. Sure, they’d slept in the same bed but it wasn’t as though their had been any conversation of: _hey, so we both agree that we’re soulmates, right? Together forever and all that bullshit?_

Eddie eyed Richie from the corner of his eye, the man with his eyes shut lightly and nodding along to the music playing within the car, and Eddie supposed he didn’t need to ask. Of course, they were soulmates. Why have a conversation about it when it was something had been true and obvious since they were twelve years old.

Eddie pulled into the parking of the old Derry Library and turned off the car. “Mike says to meet here first,” Eddie told Richie lightly. “We’re the last people to arrive, apparently I was the hardest to get a hold of. I’m not sure. The others are waiting for us in there.”

“Do they…” Richie cleared this throat, looking at the building with a deep wariness. “Do they know about what happened? My short spell of being dead?”

 _Two years is hardly a short spell,_ Eddie thought to himself but merely shrugged. “Mike knows, but I think since he never left Derry he would’ve known who you were when you died. The others all forgot, so it’s possible that your death didn’t affect them like it would have if they… knew. Like with me.”

Richie nodded. “Glad I’m died and nobody fucking noticed.”

“Hey, Richie-“ Eddie said, eyes blowing open wide but Richie was already yanking open the car door and storming out. Eddie exhaled hard and ran his hands over his face before following Richie out. Rushing slightly to catch up, he wondered for a second if maybe he should give some words of comfort but that all too familiar cloudy look told him not to. It was the look that would settle over Richie’s face before he’d pick a fight with Bill just to see how long it would take for the other people to crack and knock him one.  

As they moved into the library, Richie and Eddie both looked around. Eddie could feel his heart shaking inside his chest before he was smothered by an aggressive amount of red hair and the overwhelming smell of vanilla. Chuckling to himself, Eddie brought his arms up around the girl and breathed out of her name more than said it.

As he pulled back, patting Bev on the cheek and secretly revelling on how she was shorter than him, he turned to Richie on an impulse. Richie had his hands tucked into the pant pockets, and he wasn’t looking at Eddie or Bev. His nervous eyes were on Mike, who had pressed a hand over his mouth and was openly tearing up at the sight. “God, Rich-“ Mike said, moving forward to clasp Richie on the shoulder. “Really good to see you, man. I… I didn’t this would be possible.”

Richie let out a forced chuckle and ducked away from Mike’s touch. “Mikey, my man!” Richie said, voice coming out in some sort of old school voice that even Eddie couldn’t recognize anymore. “We made a promises, didn’t we? Course I’m here, where else would I be?”

Mike looked startled and glanced over at Eddie. Eddie smiled sadly, and shook his head but he couldn’t give any explanation he was finding himself being tugged into more hugs.

As the Losers all greeted each other tearfully, with loud exclamations of disbelief of how they’d forgotten one another, Richie pressed himself up against the walls of the library and tried to disappear. For the first time since he’d come back, Richie could tell that his heart didn’t beat. He could feel the cold, stillness within his chest. He rubbed his hands along his arms, suddenly feeling so goddamn cold that he could shatter like an icicle.

“Richie?” A hand pressed to his side and Richie gasped out loud. Horrible images suddenly flooded his mind, a bloody razor, red water, dripping wrists, a screaming woman. He wiped around and found himself looking at concerned Stanley Uris and let out a shaky laugh. He grabbed Stan by both shoulders and tugged him into his chest.

“Stan the _Man,”_ Richie whispered a little brokenly. “Glad you could fucking make it, buddy.”

Stan pulled back slightly, narrowing his eyes at Richie. In that moment, they both knew what Richie knew. The thoughts Stan had had when he’d heard from Mike, what he’d almost done. But Stan was here, and Richie was here, and everybody was here. And they were going to fucking _win._ So, Stan just smiled slightly, and patted Richie’s shoulder. “You’re ice cold, Rich. Are you sick?”

Richie shook his head, smiling. “I’m feeling warmer already.”

Then Eddie was there, and hand was pushing into his, spreading the warmth at a ten times the rate Richie had felt it before. Richie draped his arm around Eddie and pulled him in, feeling the man smile against his neck. Stan raised his brow at the two of them, but said nothing. He simply smiled.

“Okay, guys, I know this is emotional,” Mike said, wiping at his own eyes as he watched Richie and Eddie interacting. Richie leap up to sit on the librarian’s desk and encouraged Eddie to stand between his legs. “But unfortunately, this isn’t a pleasure visit. There’s a few things we need to talk about it, and we need to come up with a plan.”

“Can I…” Richie cleared his throat awkwardly, resting his chin on top of Eddie’s head. “Can I tell my thing first? I think out of everything you’ve gathered that it’s the biggest fucking proof that something is going on, you know? Unless you’ve got something bigger, which-“

“No, no,” Mike waved his hands to stop Richie’s rambling. “Your _thing_ is definitely the biggest proof we’ve got. If I hadn’t already been sure, after finding out _that_ I was absolutely positive. I just wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk about it.”

“I don’t, really,” Richie said, forcing himself not to let out some bullshit joke. Just being back in Derry had Richie feeling himself sinking back into being fifteen, and he wasn’t particularly a fan of it. He felt Eddie lean back against Richie’s chest, and he held the man tighter. “But it’s important. Everybody deserves to know what we’re fighting against.”

Mike nodded and Richie felt all the eyes on him as he inhaled hard. He wondered for a moment if he actually _needed_ to breath, or if he was just doing it out of familiarity, but quickly pushed that thought away. “Two years ago, I got really drunk and drove myself off a cliff in California right into the ocean. I was part of some shitty mock-rock band, Trashmouth, and I was really into the party scene I guess and-“

“Wait, wait,” Bill interrupted, shaking his head. “ _Trashmouth?_ I remember that band, I totally remember what you were talking about, Rich. I didn’t know that was you… but I-“ Bill narrowed his eyes. “I thought that guy died?”

Richie sighed, running one hand through his hair while Eddie grabbed the other and stroked it lightly with his thumb. “Yeah, he did… _I did._ I died two years and then two days ago, I woke up on the side on some Cali beach and I didn’t even know I’d died. It was like, the next morning? I’d just fallen off the cliff then woken up. I didn’t think anything was wrong except that I could remember everything. _Everything.”_

“Like the IT stuff?” Beverly asked, glancing around with a frown. “I don’t know why it was all repressed, but I couldn’t remember any of it until Mike reached out. It’s still fuzzy, it comes in bits and pieces.” The other Losers were nodding in agreement and Richie shook his head.

“I remembered everything immediately,” Richie said. “It’s like…”

“Dying took away IT’s hold over you,” Stan said quietly, looking at Richie with those deep, serious eyes. “Because you were dead, IT let you go. Coming back meant you could remember everything, because he wasn’t blocking you anymore. But maybe… I don’t know, do you think we ever really forgot? I feel like I didn’t. I forgot you guys, I forgot Derry… but I don’t think I ever forgot IT.”

“There’s uh…” Richie cleared this throat, taping out a short beat on Eddie’s hips with the tips of his fingers. “I had this dream… with a turtle?” There were five looks of confusion turned towards him, but Richie’s eyes found Bills’ through the other people. There was dim, dark look of recognition as Bill nodded for Richie to continue. “He told me that he brought me back, because it wasn’t my time yet. That it needed to be seven to defeat IT.”

Stan looked down at his hands, face sheet white. Eddie turned in Richie’s arm and gave him a sad look. “That was the dream you had last night, right?”

Richie nodded, then pressed a kiss to Eddie’s forehead- because he fucking could. Eddie smiled bashfully up at him, blushing slightly. He tucked his head under Richie’s chin properly, wrapping his arms around Richie’s middle, and whispered: “I wish I could hear it again.”

Richie cleared his throat awkwardly and rubbed his nails against Eddie’s scalp, almost expecting him to  start purring. “I’m not really sure about a lot of things. Like, Eddie cut me and I didn’t bleed so like I’m not sure I’m all that alive.”

 “He… cut you?” Ben asked, rubbing at his temples as though his brain was throbbing inside his skull. “Why did he… Eddie, there’s got to be a better way to check if he’s alive!”

Eddie laughed. “I panicked, okay? You all know I’m good at that!”

Mike cleared this throat. “Okay, so we’ve covered Richie’s resurrection that he seems to believe came from a turtle.” Richie beamed and shot Mike a thumbs up. Mike smiled back, still looking at Richie as though he couldn’t truly accept that he was there. “I’ve been gathering up some information over the past few weeks, and just a few nights ago, something happened that confirmed it for me.”  

Mike started going over the weeks leading up to this little reunion, but Richie couldn’t bring himself to listen fully. His brain was feeling fuzzy, as though he’d already hit his max cap of attention for the day, and he needed a nap. He chuckled to himself slightly as he leaned heavier onto Eddie’s back, thinking about how for a dead dude he certainly needed a lot of sleep.

He was woken up by Eddie, as the rest of the Losers were walking from the library and talking amongst themselves. “We’re all going to stay at the hotel off main street,” Eddie told him quietly, almost petting at Richie’s cheek. “And getting back together in the morning. We decided that it was best to jump right into it, the earlier we get to IT, the more likely we can cut him off.”

Richie smiled sleepily. “I’m sure IT already knows that we’re all here. We’re on his turf now.”

Eddie tugged Richie from his half-laying, half-sitting position on the desk and wrapped Richie around him. They moved towards the door together, Eddie letting Richie lean on him the whole way. “Mike got our room together, because it’s Mike and he knows everything. I’m assuming that’s okay.”

Eddie said it all with a joking grin and Richie felt a rush of anxiety either way. He gripped Eddie a little harder and stared into his eyes. “I don’t want to be apart from you, ever.”

Eddie frowned, glancing over Richie’s face. Opening his mouth to speak, only to close it again and look at Richie sadly. “Yeah I… I get that feeling.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and Richie couldn’t help smiling to himself as he realized how easy the silence between them was. Walking in silence, driving in silence, just the two of them existing. Eddie made the move to check them into their hotel, taking them upwards and letting them in. It wasn’t the nicest, but it was Derry, and it wasn’t as though Richie would feel safe anywhere they were staying.

Richie sat down on the bed, hard. Eddie turned around and looked at him, eyes wide and concerned. “Eddie, I love you,” Richie said in a rush, feeling blood that wasn’t really there swelling in his ears. “I loved you when we were kids, you know? And I- I still love you. I don’t know if I ever stopped loving you, even when I didn’t know who you were.”

Eddie’s stared at him, gaped mouthed, for a moment before he was crossing the room and climbing into Richie’s lap. Wrapping his arms around Richie’s neck, he stared down at him with something that couldn’t be described as anything other than pure love. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You know? I just… I think it’s like the second you walked into my office, my soul knew who you were. My brain couldn’t remembered, but I knew. That I loved you then, and I will _always_ love you.”

Richie made a small, overwhelmed noise in the back of his throat before Eddie was pushing forward and pressing their lips together. There was no pulling away this time, no crying or demands of leaving. Just the feeling of lips pressing together, this time with the mutual knowledge of having done it before. Of having done so many things before… and knowing that they may very well never come back out of those sewers tomorrow.

Richie leaned backwards, holding tight to Eddie’s hips so the man followed him down, and moaned when they landed chest-to-chest on the bed. Richie’s pushed Eddie’s flopping fringe out of his eyes and smiled tearily at him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Their lips were meeting again, hands wandering wildly, hips rocking together. Richie was so lost in the feeling that he didn’t realize anything was off until Eddie was pulling away and giving him a concerned look. Richie frowned up at him, looking over Eddie’s messy hair and swollen lips. “Is everything… okay, Richie?”

“Yeah, everything is great,” Richie said, breathing heavily from the lack of oxygen he likely didn’t truly need. “Why?”

“Because…” An uncomfortable look settled over Eddie’s face before he let out a frustrated sigh. He rocked his hips down, Richie ready to let out a moan when he felt Eddie’s hard cock against his thigh before realizing what _exactly_ Eddie thought the problem was.

“What, I don’t..” Richie started before letting out a bitter laugh and tossing his head back against the bed. “Oh my fucking God. Death- the ultimate cock block.” Eddie raised his eyebrows, sitting on Richie’s lap and looking down at him. Richie sighed. “No flowing blood, Eds.”

“What…” Eddie began to ask before laughing to himself. “Yeah, of course. Fucking… yeah obviously. Okay.”

Eddie moved to roll off of Richie but Richie grabbed at his hips and whined. “You don’t have to stop… I mean, I almost always bottomed anyway so it’s like I _need to-“_

But Eddie was looking at him in mild horror. “Richie, I’m not gonna just _fuck you,_ not if you can’t even get hard. You probably can’t ever have an orgasm, that’s fucked up, Richie, I’m not-“

Richie rolled his eyes then proceeded to rock their bodies so that Eddie was laid flat beneath him. “Fine, fine.” Richie said quickly. “But I’m getting you off. Because I’m not a piece of shit lover. Unless…” Richie reached out and palmed at Eddie’s cock, feeling it begin to swell back up to full-hardness under his hand. “You don’t want me to. Just say the word.”

Eddie tossed his head back, biting into his bottom lip. Richie moved up his body, sucking kisses to Eddie’s neck and jawline. Eddie began to squirm under Richie’s light touches over top of jeans, letting out small desperate noises that Richie knew he was trying to hold back. Bill and Bev’s rooms were on either side of them, and Richie supposed that it wasn’t the kind of reunion they were wanted to listen to.

“Richie…” Eddie sighed as Richie was popping the button on Eddie’s jeans and pushing his hand inside. Eddie moaned out despite himself, hands flying up to squeeze at Richie’s back. Richie smirked against Eddie’s neck, before biting down and sucking the skin between his teeth.

Eddie whined, hips bucking upwards and _fuck_ if Richie had been able to be hard, it would’ve been fucking painful right now. He almost enjoyed it, the lack of pressure of his own arousal giving him the benefit to truly enjoy pleasuring Eddie in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully been able to before. The burning urge to have Eddie in his mouth made Richie moan out and he pulled back.

“Eddie…. Eds…” He whined as he yanked Eddie’s jeans and underwear off in one go, leaving them bunched up around his thighs. “I wanna suck you off… Please, just… I want.”

Eddie nodded frantically, head pressing deeper into the hotel pillows, back arching off the bed. “Yeah, Rich, _fuck yeah._ Do it.”

Richie pressed quick, open mouthed kisses down Eddie’s neck for a moment before grasping Eddie’s cock in hand and tugging softly. Eddie cried out, grabbing at Richie’s hair and shoving his head down towards his cock. Richie chuckled and press quick kitten licks to the head of Eddie’s cock before swallowing him down completely.

“Oh god, _fuck,”_ Eddie whined, pulling his legs up so his knees boxed Richie in. “I fucking forgot you could do that… Jesus fucking _Christ._ I’m not going to last, oh shit.”

Richie hummed around Eddie’s cock, knowing from all too-old knowledge how wild it drove him. Eddie gasped loudly, letting out a high-pitched whine of Richie’s name before finishing in his mouth. Richie smiled cockily as he pulled off, watching Eddie cover his face and groan in embarrassment.

“Fuck that’s embarrassing,” Eddie groaned, dropping his legs so that Richie could crawl further up his body.

Richie laughed against Eddie’s cheek. “So what if you came like a virgin?” He chuckled. “At least you got it up in the first place.”

Eddie gave Richie a disapproving frown. “Yeah but you’ve got an accuse- you’re dead… or whatever.”

“Dead… or whatever,” Richie mocked with a laugh. “That’s what I’m calling it from now on.” Eddie swatted at his chest, but Richie was already fading back into the sleep that wouldn’t stop taking over him at any point in time.

_Richie was in those fucking sewers, he realized pretty quickly. Groaning and rubbing at his eyes, he walked through the grey water until he came into the large room._

_“Richie!” Little Georgie Denbrough was staring happily up at him, but Richie couldn’t contain the small noise of horror that came from his mouth at the sight. Georgie didn’t look like the little boy Richie remembered, his skin was grey and flaking and his eyes were dark, endless holes. “Why did you leave me here, Richie? Where did you go? We were so happy down here! We floated.”_

_Richie let out a small cry of horror, backing up and running directly into a squishy surface behind him. Whipping around, Richie gave a full scream and tried to scramble off. Patrick Hockstetter reached out and grabbed hold of him by both arms. Patrick’s hair was matted with bugs, and his face was covered with burns and blood to the point where Richie almost didn’t recognize him. Almost. “You think you can just leave us, Richie?” Patrick’s breath danced all over Richie, he could smell the decay mixed with his mother’s favourite brand of vodka. “We are part of IT. You can’t leave. You can’t ever leave.”_

_“Let go of me!” Richie screamed, yanking away. Patrick’s arm off with Richie’s tug, attached to his body but not to the one which it belonged. Richie screamed, shaking at it own arm until the grip loosen and the de-attached limb fell to the ground. As it touched the wet sewer floor, it seemed to turn to dust and float away into the damp air. Richie pressed his hand against his mouth and felt his body trembling._

_Patrick was grinning at him, terrifyingly. Like he was seeing right through Richie’s body to the soul inside… as though he wanted to suck it from Richie and leave him with nothing. “You can’t leave, no, no, never leave. We all float down here, we float, yes we do. This is where you belong. Dead things may not walk among the living, you must know that?”_

_Tears burned at Richie’s eyes as he trembled, his stomach churning and churning until Richie was sure he was going to throw up. “I’m not…”_

_“What?” Patrick’s eyes flashed that yellow, that horrible, horrible yellow. “You aren’t dead? You know you are, Richie, you know you shouldn’t be here. The turtle can do as he wishes, but that does not make you alive. It just makes you a_ monster. _Just… like… IT._ ”

Richie was throwing up before he was even aware he was awake. Eddie was startling awake beside him, rolling over and grabbing at Richie’s long curls before he had even fully realized what was happening. He hushed Richie, holding his hair and rubbing at his back, while Richie shook and cried all while holding the bedside garbage to his face.

“Another dream?” Eddie asked lightly as Richie rolled over and stared at him. Richie let his eyes trailed over the marks left onto Eddie’s neck from the night before and thought that he couldn’t be a monster. Monster couldn’t love like he did. “Was it the turtle?”

“No…” Richie answered through a dry throat. “It was Georgie… and Patrick… the sewers.”

Eddie looked heartbroken as he dropped down to rest against Richie’s chest. “Let’s skip.” Eddie said against Richie’s bare chest. “Fuck it, you know? We don’t owe IT anything, certainly not our lives. Let’s go. Back to New York. Far the fuck away from here.”

Richie squeezed Eddie close to him and shuttered. “If we go… we break the Seven, and they all die in those sewers. We might owe IT, but we owe them. We promised.”

Eddie was quiet for a long time before sighing. “It’s almost nine, do you want to try for a few more hours or do you just want to head into town now?”

Richie’s stomach clenched at the thought of dreaming again. “Let’s just get up.”

When the Seven them walked down into the sewers, Eddie’s hand was heavy and sweating in his own. Since that last dream, with Georgie and Patrick, Richie had been cold. No amount of touch from the Losers or even Eddie could bring the warmth back to his body. The closer they got to the sewers- the closer they got to IT- the colder Richie got.

Richie watched Eddie cringing as they made their way through the dirty Derry water and squeezed his hand all the tighter. Their walk through was uneventful in the way their childhood selves would have been envious of. The relief was evident on Stan’s face in particular as they finally walked into the large room of childhood horrors. Childrens toys and clothes littering the ground.

Bill looked over at Mike and raised his eyebrows. “Are we sure about this? Because none of this is really anything like I remember.”

“My non-beating heart is sure about this,” Richie said mildly. “There’s something here.”

The foot steps behind them alerted all the Losers, all them spinning around as little Georgie Denbrough stepped out of the shadows. He didn’t look like he had in Richie’s dream,  he looked alive and just like Georgie. He heard Bill suck in the hard breath, but Ben grabbed at his arm and pulled him back. “You know it isn’t real.”

“Richie came back…” Bill said heavily. “How come we can believe that’s real but I-i-i- don’t… fuck…”

“We don’t have time to unpack all of that…” Richie shook his head, full on shivering now. He knew that by all logic, being cold shouldn’t be bothering him so much, but it sure as hell was uncomfortable. “Bill, you _know_ he’s not real. IT pulled the same trick last time.”

“And how do we know that you’re real then?” Bill shouted, face turning red with his rage. His shoulders shook and he was shaking his head. “Maybe you’re not real! Maybe y-u-h-you’re Uh-IT.”

Richie looked around at his childhood friends, finding Bill glowering at him while both Bev and Ben refused to meet his eye. Stan shuffled further away from Bill, coming to stand beside Eddie and Richie. Mike looked pained, before his gaze seemed to be caught by something else completely.

“Guys…” He said slowly, reaching for the gun he’d pinned to his belt. Everybody jumped and turned to watch the glowing yellow eyes creeping out of the shadows, coming into view was that same horrifying clown of childhood nightmares.

“I am fucking sick of this dude,” Richie said with a wild gesture, always ready to make a joke at the worst of times. Eddie squeezed at his hand in warning, but Richie was going Full-Tozier now. “Like? Don’t you have anything better to do? What kind of kinky shit is eating children? Are you a pedophile or just a regular cannibal?”

“Richie…” The thing cooed, face flashing between clown and werewolf. Richie’s gut clenched. “You didn’t have to be here. You were out… and now you’re cold. Aren’t you cold, Richie? It’s cold down here.” Richie clenched his jaw, feeling the eyes of everybody on him. “It’s only going to get colder. Cold as _death.”_

Eddie let out a loud shriek, yanking his hand away from Richie’s as though burned. He held it to his chest, staring wide eyed at Richie as he clutched his hand to his chest. Richie swallowed harshly and turned to look at IT. “What do you want?”

“You’re not supposed to be here…” IT hissed, flashing between a wolf, a clown and now the Lady of the Painting like a strobe light. “You and a little birdie. You shouldn’t be here.”

Richie glanced at Stan, who was already holding his gaze. A bloody razor, red water, dripping wrists, a screaming woman. He turned aggressively back to IT, feeling his inside blaze with anger. “What do you _want,_ you demonic fuck?”

“I want you where you belong!” IT fully into a werewolf, nearly nine feet tall and drooling. “You should not be alive!” The figure was shrinking, growing wounds all over its face. Richie knew what was happening before change was complete and moved to stand in front of Eddie as the leper came into view. “Eds… hasn’t anybody ever told you not to play with dead things?”

Eddie whimpered behind Richie’s back but before Richie could tell what was happening, Eddie was pushing past him, yanking Richie away. He pulled the inhaler seeming out of nowhere and pressed it forward. Everything that was about to happen flashed through Richie’s mind, but not nearly fast enough for him to stop it.

“THIS IS BATTERY ACID, FUCKNUTS!” The teeth coming out. The pained scream. The aggressive flow of blood. IT turning back into Georgie Denbrough, taking off into the shadows. Bill’s anguished scream, chasing after IT. Richie didn’t have attention for any of that as he dropped to his knees and pulled Eddie to him.

Eddie looked up at him with heavy eyes and forced a smile. “Richie… We’re gonna win,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “I… I know it. It’s over.”

Richie nodded, tears dripping down his face. It was another thing he found himself wondering about while he maybe shouldn’t. If he was dead, why could he cry? Where did the water come from? He couldn’t be bothered with it for too long, because at the end of the day- he could cry for Eddie, cry for what they were loosing again. Hugging Eddie closer, Richie pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Fuck, Eds. I love you…”

“I love you, too,” Eddie whispered. The body in Richie’s arms seemed to shake…. and then Eddie was gone. Richie couldn’t argue it with himself, he’d felt it happen. He didn’t fully lower Eddie’s body from himself, but turned to look at his friends. Only Stan and Ben stood with him, seemingly the others having followed Bill after IT. He smiled sadly at him, feeling as though a thousand butterflies were exploding inside him.

“Richie…” Ben had a hand pressed over his mouth.

“Don’t leave him here,” Richie said but his voice sounded far away even to himself. “Eds would hate it down here, you _know_ he would. He deserves a true death, you know? Bury him somewhere nice. Somewhere with flowers.”

“We’ll take him out,” Stan said softly, tears in his own eyes but Richie wasn’t sure he could see anymore. “We all will.”

“No, I can’t leave,” Richie said. “It’s my time.”

Richie Tozier floated away.

\--

**RELAX. EVERYTHING IS OKAY.**

Richie walked through the weird, yellow light and crinkled his nose. Everything smelled like the old peppermint patties since mother used to make while he was growing up. His hair was wet.

“Richie…” The voice carried over to him. Richie whipped around and broke into a smile. Eddie’s shirt was bloodied, and he was holding his left arm at an awkward angle. Upon closer look, Richie could see the cast. He moved quickly, almost as though he were floating through thin air, until he was close enough to wrap Eddie up in his arms.

“I died, didn’t I?” Eddie asked against Richie’s chest. Richie stroked at his hair.

“Yeah, but that’s okay,” Richie whispered. “So did I.”

“Did we win at least?” Eddie asked. “Is it over for everybody else?”

“I don’t know,” Richie said, leaning away from Eddie and cupping his face. “It doesn’t matter though, does it? We either did or we didn’t. Nothing we can change. Does it bother you?”

Eddie leaned into Richie’s touch. “I don’t…. No, nothing bothers me anymore.”

When Richie Tozier kissed Eddie Kaspbrak realized that happily ever after didn’t have to happen on Earth to be real.


End file.
